Talent
by Silver Spider
Summary: It's not easy being a little kid in a team of heroes. “Bad Guys”-inspired one-shot. Robyn/Dingo and the rest of the Redemption Squad. Tied to my other Bad Guys fics.


_**Author's Note:**_ Yay another one. Set five years after "Life Rearranges" and once again dedicated to my awesome beta ^_^ If the first part seems simplistic, keep in mind it's from the pov of a five year old. Enjoy!

**Talent**

**By: Silver Spider**

Even at age five, Erika Monmouth knew a few facts of life. One: Fang and Yama-san did _not_ get along. Two: Matrix made for a great playmate, especially when she wanted to build sand castles but weather or time did not allow for a trip to the beach. Three: Mommy and Daddy never _really_ argued, not in the way she had to worry about. She just had to steer clear when the door was closed. Four: Uncle Jason and Uncle Macbeth could be counted on to bring the best presents ever for her birthday.

For example, when she turned five, Uncle Jason brought her a set of shiny colored pencils and a stack of coloring books with pictures of castles and kings and queens and dragons. The books were okay, but the pencils fascinated her. She worked all of the next day on the picture – mommy said she had never seen her so quiet – but finally just after dinner, felt satisfied enough with her work and set out to hunt down some compliments.

Her first stop was the rec room where Fang was hard at work battling monsters in the latest incarnation of the Doom franchise. He was so intent on the game that he did not see her enter. Erika waited at the door for what seemed like an eternity, but little girls only have so much patience.

"Fang?"

No answer, just more sounds of blasters firing and zombies dying.

"Fang!"

"Beat it, kid."

"But I wanna show you something."

Another hideous sound followed from the computer, but this time it appeared that it was Fang's character who got killed. He spat a string of words she did not understand but was pretty sure neither of her parents would approve of her repeating. He continued to curse as he restarted the game, his hands sparkling with unreleased electricity.

"Didn't ya hear me, brat? Scram!"

Erika gave him the best glare she could muster, which quickly turned into a pout, but decided not to push the issue. She would take her work where it would be more appreciated.

Yama-san's dojo was the prettiest room in the entire underground base. It had paper walls with cool Japanese designs and was always so clean. Not a single piece of stone skin ever remained from his sleep during the day. Yama-san was very polite and taught her some words in Japanese while he explained all about traditions from his homeland, especially bushido which sounded somewhat like when Uncle Macbeth – she was not quite sure how he was her uncle since he was mommy's uncle too – talked about honor.

She was very quiet when she walked in, proud of herself for remembering to take her shoes off and leave them outside the door, and padded across the wooden floor to where Yama was seated in the center of the room. His eyes were closed, but she knew he was not asleep since it was after sunset. Erika sat down cross legged in front of him and waited for him to finish his ritual meditation.

"Is it very urgent, Erika-chan?" he asked without opening his eyes.

"Ie," she admitted, knowing that the gargoyle liked it when she practiced her Japanese.

"Then you know better than to interrupt my meditation, little one."

"Hai, Yama-san."

She was disappointed, but she did understand. Meditation was obviously much more important than video games. She would try Matrix next. Matrix was never busy. Even if he was, he could just make another copy of himself and it would look at her picture. She could not possibly miss. Erika smiled as she happily ran down to the lab.

Matrix was nowhere in sight, but she finally spotted the silvery puddle on the computer console. She went over and, careful not to actually touch the big computer her mommy told her many times not to, poked at the collection of nanites with the finger of her free hand. A moment later a vaguely humanoid head emerged and rotated 180 degrees to look at her.

"Yes?"

"Wanna look at my picture?" she held up the drawing proudly.

The nanites shifted so it looked like the head was cocked to one side. He studied the picture for a long time. She thought that maybe he did not understand what she drew, so Erika proceeded to explain.

"See?" she pointed at the picture. "It's the squad. There's mommy and daddy, and you and and Fang and Yama-san."

"They are pencil marks on the page."

"Duh, but I made it so they look like people I know. Do you like it?"

"It is... adequate. A photograph would have been more realistic."

Erika's eye roll was a perfect imitation of her mother. She should have known better. After all, she was five, not stupid. She was about to head out to find one of her parents, when her mother walked into the lab. Perfect timing!

Mommy was always working on something. She was really smart, and, in Erika's opinion, also the most beautiful woman in the world. Daddy tended to agree, though he also said it was a tie between them. That made her giggle. She did not mind being compared to someone as smart and pretty as her mother.

"Look, Mommy."

"In a minute, sweetheart," her mother walked past her and set some folders and cd cases on the table. Then she began typing something at the computer, and Erika just knew 'in a minute' would be a long long time from now.

"Nevermind," she sighed and trotted out of the lab.

In a last half-hearted effort, Erika decided to track down her father. She was even more disheartened when, after what felt like forever, she still could not find him anywhere and discovered the door to the training room was locked. He was probably working out, and that was one place in the base she would not be able to get into even if she was aloud. Which she definitely was _not_. The training room was very dangerous.

Disappointed and tired – eight thirty was quite late for her – she sat down by the door and hung her head. Stupid adults and their stupid work. She wished she was old enough to go to school already. At least there would be other kids to play with. Or maybe next time her mother went to the United States she could take her too, and she could play with Alex. He was a whole three years older, but that was okay. Alex was nice and he lived in a castle which was so cool.

She got up, intending to head back to her room, and almost ran into her father on the intersection of the corridor. So he had not been working out in the training room, but judging by his attire, that was exactly where he was headed. He probably would not have time either. Doing her best not to pout, Erika muttered a hello and continued walking.

"Whoa, hold up there a minute," he stopped her with his hand on her shoulder. "What's the matter, princess?"

"Nothing," she looked down. "I have this picture, but it's probably stupid."

"Bet I won't think it's stupid. Let's have a look."

Her father kneeled so that they were at eye level and gingerly took the piece of paper from her. He studied it for a long time then gave her a funny look.

"Did you draw this, darlin'?"

"Yeah," Erika nodded, "but I don't think anyone likes it. They're all too busy to look."

"Well, I love it," he assured her. "It's much better than any scribble I ever did. Where'd you learn to draw like that?"

"No where," the girl shrugged. "Just looked at other pictures. Do you really think it's good?"

"_Really_ good," he rose and took her hand. "C'mon. Let's go put this on the fridge. They gotta eat sometime, so they're all gonna see it."

Her entire face lit up in a bright smile. Daddy always made time for her, because she was his princess. There was not problem that he could not fix.

* * * * * * * * * *

After putting Erika to bed around nine, Dingo pulled out a cold beer from the refrigerator and leaned against the counter, one hand shoved deep into the pocket of his jeans. The colorful magnetic plastic letters that Erika had learned to read and write from resided on the refrigerator door, and the 'E', 'R', and 'I' now served to hold up her picture. It was just the first three letters of her name because all five would look too crowded and four made up a boy's name.

His prediction was accurate. Dingo was only half-way through with his drink when Robyn came up from the lab. She did not notice anything out of the ordinary at first, but upon closing the door after she retrieved a bottle of water, she stopped and stared at the drawing. Judging by the expression on her face, she was just as impressed as he had been.

It was not just parental pride. Of course he would have happily praised his daughter for any accomplishment she achieved. But the sketch was very impressive by any standard, not just those of a common doodle of a five-year-old. Her attention to detail and ability to express them through the drawing was remarkable.

"You see that?" Dingo nodded his head towards the refrigerator door. "How talented is that kid of ours? Wanna fess up to any world famous artists in your family in addition to the blue blood, 'cause I know none of that comes from me."

"Nor me," Robyn was still studying the sketch. "My brothers made fun of me for not being able to draw stick figures."

"Talent, brains, and beauty," her husband shook his head. "That little girl's gonna be a force to be reckoned with."

_**Author's End Note:**_ For those of you who don't know, my friend and beta, Erika, is also one of the best artists I've ever seen, so it make me happy to give Erika Monmouth the same abilities ^^


End file.
